Crashing down from the tree had hurt a lot more than Ron could’ve imagined. He hadn’t possibly thought that the tree would fling him and Harry out of the car and the tree. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of crashing. Rubbing his wrist, he grits his teeth in pain. Harry rushes to Ron’s side, to make sure he is okay.

“Do you think you broke anything?” Harry asks nervously. Ron winces.

“Yeah, mate… My wrist hurts really bad, I can’t even move it. When Fred broke his wrist a few years back, he had the same issue. But that isn’t the only issue. What if…” Ron gulps. “we get expelled? Think about it, Harry, we technically trespassed, and caused damage to the property!” Harry’s face pales.

“If I get expelled, I’ll have to go back to being bullied by sweet little Dudley!” Harry says sarcastically, poison dripping from his voice in an attempt to hide his anxieties.

“God…” Ron groans. “Mum’s going to have my head!”

“She’s not going to be the only one with your head! Once someone finds us, Professor McGonagall will end us! She’ll lecture us to death! God… We’re fu-”

“Language Mr. Potter. And to say, you were correct about something at least. About time.” Snape sneers out. “On that note, Mr. Weasley, if I can trust you to do at least one task correctly, I’d suggest going to the hospital wing before you death grip your wrist any harder. You will be dealt with later by Minerva.”

Ron sighs in relief. Snape turns to Harry.

“However, you, Potter, will be coming with me.” Snape grips Harry by the ear, dragging him along to his office. Harry reaches his hand out to Ron in fear, and the redhead stares at him with wide eyes, fearful for his friend as he gets dragged away by Snape.

“Ow! Let go of me, you greasy git!” Harry struggles, trying to escape the Potions Master’s grip. No matter how much he tried to escape and run, Snape’s grip would just get tighter on his ear. It didn’t take long before Harry gave up and just went along with Snape. Soon he felt himself being pushed into a chair on the opposite side of Snape’s desk.

“Now, Potter, would you care to emphasize why you and your friend felt the need to avoid taking the tram? I would love to hear those outlandish excuses of yours.” Snape says sarcastically, and Harry gulps.

“The- the platform wasn’t letting me through!” Harry squeaks out. Snape angrily slams his hands against his desk, standing up in a way that towers over Harry

“Or, did your tiny dunderhead brains ever even think to try more than once before bolting off to make another one of your radically bad decisions? So which is it, Potter?” the Potions Master shouts sternly. He’s got it all wrong! It almost sounds identical to Uncle Vernon.

Almost

Snape gives a false look of pity. “Such a shame… Dumbledore’s golden boy being expelled, on his first day back nonetheless! And to say it wouldn’t be deserved!” Harry’s eyes widen.

“Please, Professor! Don’t!” Harry yells in panic. “Please.” He whispers softly.

“Oh come on now, afraid your aunt and uncle will send you to the time-out corner? As if they would do anything harsher. Maybe I should take such matters into my own hands.” The Slytherin Head of House teases coldly. Harry’s face paled at the implication of Snape’s last statement.

“You wouldn’t.” Harry’s voice wavers. His front of bravery shrivels as he begins to shake.

“How about we test that, since you dare challenge it! I’ll turn you into potions meat!” He shouts, getting closer to the boy, yanking him upright. Harry feels cold and dizzy at the mere thought of being beaten up by a teacher.

The truth was, Snape hadn’t actually planned on hurting the boy, just giving him a little scare. To set him straight for a few weeks at least.

However, Harry didn’t know this was all a sick joke to get him to behave.

“Sir, sir please!” Harry begged, his vision blurring with tears as Snape dragged him closer to it. They were now both standing right next to a boiling cauldron, with the Potions Master still gripping Harry to prevent struggling. Harry remembered what it felt like last time.

The scalding hot water, pouring down his back as a punishment for taking an unused towel and using it as a blanket for when he wasn’t given one during winter.

“Damn ungrateful brat. We gave you a place to live, it’s better than outside on the streets, and you’re still complaining? Oh, I’ll give you warmth, something that’ll stop the complaining.” Uncle Vernon screams out, pouring the whole pot of boiling water down Harry’s nine-year-old back as he holds Harry down with his free hand.

Harry screams in both scenarios, the flashback and in Professor Snape’s office. He’s shaking and crying and close to throwing up.

“Oh don’t work yourself up so much, Potter. I won’t throw you into that cauldron today, or likely ever. I doubt Dumbledore would let me anyway.” Snape rolls his eyes. “But maybe if you keep foolishly running around and nearly killing yourself, you’ll end up there anyway.”

The Gryffindor is still cemented in place next to the cauldron, shaking and sobbing, hyperventilating. Snape sighs and reaches to grab him to move him away from the boiling water. The boy flinches.

“G-get away!” Harry shrieks, moving farther from Snape. Harry stumbles back a little farther, toppling over, hitting the ground on his knees. He scrambles in an attempt to get up, but to no avail.

Snape has never seen a kid look so fearful of their lives after such happenings. Or at least he’s never had a student have a full-blown panic attack due to such a threat. Normally there would be more fighting back, or at least they would be calm enough to apologize before there would even be any threatening.

The potions master slowly approaches the boy cautiously and kneels down next to him, causing Harry’s breathing to pick up more.

“Potter, It’s me, your Potions Master. Severus Snape. You are in my office and at Hogwarts. I’m not going to hurt you.” the Slytherin reassures. “You need to breathe. Breathe with me.” Snape commands softly, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I can’t!” Harry chokes out breathily. He tangles his hands in his hair. His surroundings were blurring in and out. Snape grimaces at the idea of touching James Potter’s son, but he knows that if he didn’t the boy would give himself a headache. Snape moves his hands to grab Harry’s.

“Don’t grip your hair Potter- er Harry.” The word feels so foreign in the Potions Master’s mouth. “You’ll give yourself a headache.” Snape then proceeds to lower the boy’s hands away from his hair. “Breathe with me.”

Snape takes a deep breath, and Harry follows it with a shaky inhale. Snape exhales, and Harry lets his breath out quickly.

“Exhale a bit slower. It’ll help.” Snape advises.

They both sit like that, taking deep breaths for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry.” Harry looks down into his lap, ashamed.

“For what Potter? You don’t need to apologize for having a panic attack. However, I do think the reaction was quite extreme. What happened that made you so scared of that cauldron?”

“It’s really nothing sir, I’m fine.” Harry quickly replies. If anyone knew about this, he would for sure be considered weak, worthless, and no good. Everyone would just drop him, just like they had done at home.

“I don’t think having a panic attack in my Office is normal behavior. I expect the truth.” Snape says softly yet sternly.

“My Uncle.” the boy replies shortly.

“What did he do?” Snape feels like he knows the answer. It’s not an answer he likes. Snape had hoped it had been some measly childhood prank gone wrong.

“I stole a towel from the bathroom to use as a blanket during the winter. The punishment was apparently pouring boiling water down my back.” Harry seethes out, not wanting to talk about it.

“Your uncle abused you, and you didn’t tell anyone?” Snape prods, shocked that the boy wasn’t treated like a prince back at home.

“I did. Dumbledore didn’t listen. Teachers just sent over the cops, and then the cops always left. If I didn’t keep my mouth shut it would have been way worse.”

“You aren’t ever going back there.” Snape says angrily. No matter how much the professor hated the boy’s father, he still wouldn’t let a kid get abused, especially not Lily’s son.

“Dumbledore will make me.” the boy says sadly.

“I won’t let him. I’ll do anything. We will get you out of this. I promise.” When Snape says it, Harry knows he’s serious, and that his Professor really means it. “In the meantime, You need to eat. You’re practically skin and bones. I wish someone would have noticed earlier.”

“I don’t particularly want to go down there alone. Normally I’d have gone in a group…” Harry trails off.

“Very well then. If you wait a bit we can go down together. And then you may meet your friends. Although Ron likely won’t be dining in the Great Hall tonight. If you wish, you can eat with him in the infirmary.

Normally Snape wouldn’t allow this, but seeing as the boy had spent a summer being abused, went through a car crash, and had a panic attack, it might be beneficial to give the kid a little time with his friends. Maybe it would help him feel better after the terrible summer he’d had.